


Heather and Linden Are The Fruit of Your Womb

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: You're Lovely to Me [8]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456





	Heather and Linden Are The Fruit of Your Womb

_Come on, Bones... Sometime today would be great..._

Yawning with boredom, Seeley Booth tapped his fingers listlessly on the steering wheel of his parked car. Every few seconds, he glanced over towards the large glass doors of the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab, hoping that his partner would hurry up so that they could get to the scene.

 _How can it take her so long?_ he wondered in annoyance. _All she needs to do is grab her kit and vamoose._ Checking his watch and seeing that it was nearly ten minutes later than their agreed meeting time, he debated whether to go in and drag her out by whatever means necessary. However, this option was soon discarded, partly because he was well aware that he may lose the ability to walk, speak or have children if he tried to drag Brennan anywhere, and partly because the hovering parking attendants would swoop, vulture-like, on his unprotected vehicle the second he stepped inside, issuing him with enough fines to ensure that Parker's college fund would remain empty for many years.

Irritated, Booth leaned back in his seat, unconsciously letting his eyes roll towards the door again. It took him a moment to realise that she'd actually emerged, but when he did, he sat upright in his seat again, smiling like a kid at Christmas. Thankful for his tinted windows, he watched in contentment as his improved version of Santa made her way down the steps to his waiting SUV.

The cold autumn wind whistled round her body and he saw her pull her jacket tighter around herself, smiling as it emphasised her slim waist. She'd folded her arms under her breasts for warmth, creating a little more cleavage which Booth was entirely appreciative of. Her footsteps seemed to match the rhythm of the slow song playing on the radio, and Booth's mind was robbed of coherent thought while he watched her hips sway slightly as she walked. Her kit was slung over her shoulder and bounced lightly against her ass as she moved, causing him to involuntarily swallow hard at the scene before him.

 _You're jealous of a forensics kit_ , his mind pointed out incredulously _. New low, Seel, even for you_. Telling his mind to be quiet, Booth returned his attention to Brennan as she got nearer, a smile still on his lips.

The smile abruptly vanished when his attention was drawn back to the glass doors, and he saw Zach Addy following his fellow anthropologist towards Booth's car. The young man's face was red from the coolness of the breeze and he hurried clumsily down the stairs, his kit banging hard against his leg and nearly causing him to lose his balance.

 _Ha! You ogle Bones, you get Zach as punishment,_ said his conscience with malicious glee. _I think there's a lesson to be learned here._

Booth's mild dejection at this thought soon morphed into full-blown panic when he saw the doors open again, and Jack Hodgins and Angela Montenegro also made a beeline for his car, their arms comfortably around each other's waists. Filled with irrational fear at the apparent squint invasion, Booth did the first thing he could think of. He locked the car.

"Booth?" Closing his eyes, he stayed quiet as Brennan tugged on the door handle of the passenger side door, calling again, "Booth, open the door."

Well versed in the children's philosophy of "If I ignore it, maybe it'll go away," Booth remained silent for a moment longer, before his partner's annoyed demand reminded him exactly why that particular way of thinking was abandoned after age eight, "Booth, I'll have to break the window if the door won't open."

Not wishing to see her Incredible Hulk impression, he reluctantly clicked the doors open, instantly regretting it when the rest of the team piled happily into the back of the SUV, with Zach being wedged between Hodgins and Angela like a squint sandwich.

Brennan sat in her usual seat at Booth's side, pulling on her seatbelt as she asked innocently, "Why were the doors locked?"

"I pressed the button by accident," he replied dismissively, before moving onto a more pressing matter. "Why are they here?"

"The structure ate our cars," Angela answered simply.

Expecting and not receiving an elaboration, he repeated, bewildered, "It _ate_ your cars?"

"Not ate in the digestive sense," Zach helpfully corrected. "The structure's merely temporarily contained our vehicles against our wishes due to a technical fault in the mechanism of the exit process."

"It _kidnapped_ your cars?" Booth questioned, picturing the large concrete parking structure as a cigar-smoking mafia boss holding cars to ransom.

"The barriers have broken and we can't get our cars out," Hodgins simplified with a grin, picking up on the agent's obvious discomfort at their presence. "We need to get to the crime scene, and you're the only one with a car."

 _A little bit of appreciative looking does not merit this kind of punishment,_ Booth mentally told his conscience, karma, God, or whoever inflicted this upon him. Looking over at Brennan, he asked hopefully, "Do you really need all of them at the scene?"

"Yes," she said bluntly, checking her watch. "We should really hurry; I told them we'd be there at 9.30."

Booth checked his own watch. "Bones, it's 9.15 and this is at least a forty minute drive."

She shrugged, unphased, "I told you to hurry."

Sighing, he started the car and pulled out onto the street as Zach suggested, "Maybe we should use the siren."

"What? No! What is it with you squints and sirens?"

"It's a good idea, Booth," Temperance added calmly. "We'd get there faster."

"Bones, I am not using the siren. This is not an emergency; the body will still be there in forty minutes." _Plus I don't really want all you people criticising my at-speed driving._

"Fine," she replied, holding her hands up in defense. "You're very grumpy in the mornings." She turned to him as an idea occurred, "Do you have enough to eat for breakfast? Because a lack of nutrients can be very detrimental to mood levels, enthusiasm, physical activities, libido..."

He looked over at her in disbelief. "My libido is just fine, thank you." _I was getting turned on by you walking down some steps for God's sake._

She frowned at him. "I don't understand why that would be a sensitive topic. Most men find penis size much more awkward to discuss, but you were happy to talk about that last week."

"Bones, I-"

"Penis size?" Angela inquired, now suddenly interested in the conversation. Addressing Brennan, she asked, "Any _big_ revelations?"

Zach's eyes widened and he said nervously, "I don't think I'm comfortable listening to this discussion."

"Then shut your ears," Angela replied with a smile, still keen to hear what her friend had to say.

"No, I'm with the kid on this one," Booth interrupted, eager to steer the conversation in another direction. Preferably one involving total silence. "How about we just sit back and listen to some music, hmm?"

"Or we could play a game?" the artist suggested, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Or not," Booth countered firmly.

"Well, what game would we play?" Brennan inquired, ignoring her partner's rejection of the idea. "The only one I know is "I Spy", but I never found that to be especially stimulating."

"The Alphabet game?" Zach proposed uncertainly. "We could name bones in the body, or the genus of various plants?"

"Truth or dare," Angela stated with a grin. "So much more fun in enclosed spaces."

Booth shook his head. "Not when you're moving at speed."

Foiled, the artist pondered further, until Hodgins spoke up, a note of inspiration in his voice. "Word association." Not being immediately rejected, he explained further, "One person says a word, and then the next has to say the first word that comes to mind." He raised his eyebrows. "It's a fun game..."

"Are there any other rules?" Temperance asked, clearly open to the basic principle of the game.

Hodgins shook his head. "That's about it. We can add in rules as we go along if we want."

Satisfied, she nodded, "Sounds alright to me. Booth?"

Deciding that the occasional word from each of the squints would keep talking to a minimum, the agent nodded reluctantly, "Fine, whatever."

Angela sat forward in her seat, eyes twinkling in anticipation. "I'll go first." She thought for a moment before saying, "Rose."

All eyes swiveled to Zach, who said in textbook fashion, "A traditional symbol of love, exchanged between men and women as a gesture of romantic intent."

" _Word_ association, Zach," Hodgins said emphatically. "You're only supposed to say one thing."

The young doctor thought for a moment, before venturing, "Flower?"

"Lonicera hispidula," the entomologist said in turn.

"New rule, no long Latin names, alright?" Booth interrupted, worried that he wouldn't even understand what word he was meant to be associating with if the squints had their way. "Let's stick to English."

"Honeysuckle," Jack stated, his tone slightly patronising.

"Heather," Brennan continued with a smile.

"Locklear." Seeing his partner's raised eyebrows, Booth said defensively, "Hey, you said the first thing that comes to mind. You say Heather, I think Locklear."

"You can't have people's names," Angela instructed.

"Fine, fine," Booth agreed with a slight sulk. "Umm... purple."

Smiling, the artist said, "Lingerie."

"How did you get "lingerie" from "purple"?" Booth queried.

"Because I'm wearing purple lingerie today," she answered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Zach, your turn."

Struggling to form words after receiving a mental picture of Angela in purple lingerie, he stammered, "Intercourse."

There was a groan from the driver's seat which was only made louder when Hodgins said what sprung to mind on hearing Zach's answer, "Angela."

More phased by the apparent breach of rules than the mention of sex, Brennan queried, "I thought you couldn't have people's names?"

"You can name people who are here," Angela clarified, evidently making up the rules as she went along. "So go on, what do you think of the second you hear my name?"

"Head," Temperance replied, and Booth suddenly found it difficult to keep the car on the road.

Mildly offended, but mostly confused, she asked, "Why do you think of "head" when you think of me?"

"Because you create images of heads on the Angelator," Brennan said confidently. Seeing her friend's shrug of acceptance, she turned to Booth, "What do you think of when you heard the word "head"?"

 _Don't say it. Do not say that. She will think you're a pervert. Hell, you probably are a pervert, but let's keep it hidden a while longer, shall we? Think of something wholesome and above the belt._ "Shoulders."

"Knees," Angela said smoothly.

Zach wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Metatarsals?"

"No squint words," Booth reminded him from the front. "Let's pretend English is actually your mother tongue."

The young man opened his mouth to argue, but, remembering the agent's gun, decided against it, saying simply, "Toes."

"Feet," Hodgins chipped in and Brennan responded without thinking.

"X-rays."

There was a tense pause in the car as Booth looked over at his partner, stunned. Her eyes widened in apology, but before she could say anything, Hodgins prompted, unaware of the feelings Brennan had reawakened, "Come on, man. What are you thinking of?"

 _Broken, fractured, pipes, torture, death, blood, pain,_ he thought bitterly, unable to recall anything but horrific memories. Glancing at Brennan, he said quietly, "Hospital."

"Maternity," Angela contributed, unsure of why the partners in the front were so uncomfortable, but deciding to lighten the mood anyway.

"Babies," said Zach, smiling in relief when no-one questioned him.

"Aliens."

"Aliens?" Booth asked incredulously.

Hodgins smiled. "Babies look like aliens."

"Babies do not look like aliens!" his girlfriend protested. "They're cute..."

The entomologist winked. "So was E.T."

Brennan cut in, wanting to stop the baby/alien debate before it got any further. "Irrationality."

Thinking for a second, Booth said with a grin, "Peanut butter." His partner began to query his answer, but stopped as she realised the irony involved.

"Jelly," Angela continued, suddenly feeling hungry.

Zach shared that thought. "Raspberry."

"Strawberry," Hodgins corrected, thinking of his favorite flavor.

"Whipped cream," Brennan said, moving from sandwich fillings to desserts with ease.

 _Remember that pervert discussion we had a while back?_ Booth's mind inquired as he struggled to think of an appropriate word to follow. _Well, it still applies. You cannot share that whipped cream fantasy with Brennan until you're actually dating, and even then it may not be advisable. Think of something non-sexual. Like cherries, or sprinkles, or ice cream..._

"Hey, that's more than one word," he challenged. "I thought we could only say one thing."

 _Or just argue with her. That'll work._

"You said peanut butter," she countered with determination.

"Yeah, but there could be a hyphen in there," he said, knowing that his argument wasn't particularly well thought through. "You could just say cream instead, or..."

"Whipped," Temperance stated purposefully, smiling as she waited for his thoughts on that word.

 _Smooth, Seel. So very, very smooth. I gave you plenty of things you could've said for whipped cream, but you had to go and argue with the genius doctor, didn't you? Well, I'm not helping you anymore. You got yourself into this mess. So, go ahead; tell her exactly what you think of when you hear her say "whipped" and watch her push you out of a moving vehicle. Chump._

Completely unable to think of a suitable response, and not wishing to find himself rolling along the road behind the car, Booth opted for the old-fashioned avoidance technique. "You know what, I can't think of anything." With feigned cheerfulness, he reached for the radio, "Maybe we should just listen to some music instead."

The outraged and amused protests of the squints were drowned out by the static as Booth flicked the radio on, searching through for a station.

Angela's voice could eventually be heard above the crackle, "Come on, Booth!"

Deciding that backing out would still be infinitely less embarrassing than trying to concoct any response to Brennan's prompt, he shook his head firmly, "Sorry, my car, my rules. Plus, I think I've learned enough about what goes on in your heads to last me a lifetime."

The complaints died down and Booth breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he'd managed to avoid giving an answer. Settling back in his seat, he found a station, and turned the volume up to rule out the possibility of any further conversation with the surrounding squints.

However, it soon became clear that conversation wasn't needed, since Booth felt his cheeks flush as the song blaring from the speakers seemed to helpfully announce his thoughts to the entire car,

 _"I just wanna make love to you..."_


End file.
